to whom it may concern.

this place does not know me. i have become
yellow, lemon, bitter about the black i am. who am i
to sit on my hands, create nothing while the streets bleed
and this does not feel
like home. is where the heart is (they say)they say
so many things and none of it makes sense. Common. Cents,
someone ask for change before change picks up a shotgun
and fires, between the nose.
eyes closed. Oh say can we see?
Bloody flag burning,dont have to be in Mississippi. our soles are red
right here. our souls are read and misinterpreted,
might as well take our heads. already lost
direction. there is no flipping coins to make decisions
there is no puzzle to be completed when pieces are missing.tired
of throwing sneakers over telephone wires.
gathering cotton filled teddy bears to replace souls taken too soon.

strength:
a flower in the wrong garden that grows anyway

in the eye of the wind there is God. this I know
and so I drift. a woman of air, foreigner
in my own queendom. some say the kings have lost
their crowns, sky no longer purple. just gray just dust
just ashes, just sadness, just joy just hope just prayer
just faith just just just justice. though this place
does not know me i know it very well. cement in my palms
songs beneath my heart, power within my locs. crafting
a new Africa, for I know warriors and empresses still remain.
if only they knew.

a great thing will happen here.
but for now, i am hideous. know that you are too.
cant turn my back on my own face. pus filled minds,
sick people. healers take off your mask. healers
take off your mask. we need you and you need you.
no time for drowning in abstract oceans getting lost
in shades that all look brown to me. get under
the clothes of each other feel flesh.dig deeper-
feel soul. dig deeper dig deeper.find we all over again.
til we become naked and new....
beautiful once more.